Sunday, 24 October 2010

On Piano Mr Tom Waits....................

Throwing arrows
At the temples of despair
Like an archer of ample antipathy
A wastrel minstrel
Yodelling scream like
Lipstick kiss on a
Stained glass
Soul
Reflecting all the colours diffused
Onto a canvas
Made of ice
Instil in me a new distinction
To discriminate
Wildly
And touch the boundaries
Corral me in a pen of plenitude
Starved of inference
Rummaging blithely
Though somewhat blindly
Through the patchwork
Piecemeal
Parallel
Plane
So I might be the
Very antithesis
Of soothing with my ragamuffin mentality
And eyebrows shorn
But I bring with me
The full scope of my patience
And a nearly full deck
Of playing cards
With naked girls and
Wishful philosophies
A playful player
On the turntable turned
Wearily signposting
Downwards and out.
 
 
 

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